


a great multitude, which no one could count

by klainelynch



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: All Saints' Day, Aziraphale Loves Humanity (Good Omens), Catholicism, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27319429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klainelynch/pseuds/klainelynch
Summary: “I still don’t understand why you pickthisday to visit a Catholic church. You don’t even go near the Christians on Christmas or Easter. Why the day after Halloween?"
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	a great multitude, which no one could count

The incense could have been Aziraphale’s favorite part of the mass. There was something comforting about it— this smoke that had been used by so many different groups of people for so many different purposes; for this congregation, they believed that the smoke drifting upwards helped bring their prayers to God. On some level, it was a bit silly, the idea that Heaven was literally in the sky above, just waiting for the hopes and dreams of a broken people to reach it, but on a much deeper level, Aziraphale envied any people who felt such a direct connection to the Almighty. Talking to Her had never been the same on Earth as it had been in Heaven, as his conversation with the Metatron had proven.

The smell from the incense was rich and almost fruity. This priest had quite a heavy hand with it, and Aziraphale knew his clothes would smell of it for hours after. He wouldn’t mind.

During communion, Aziraphale stayed in his pew in the back. He couldn’t remember which theologian had said that angels were jealous of humans because they could not access the body of Christ, but he wasn’t wrong. This was yet another thing Aziraphale could never have— another direct link to God. It was beautiful and irritating. 

Aziraphale watched some receive the Eucharist with sincere reverence, and others like it was a chore. Some just walked up with their arms crossed and received a blessing instead. Technically, Aziraphale could have done that, but he never would have felt comfortable. Besides, he was far from the only one to remain in his seat during communion. Aziraphale wondered what tethered them to their pews. Was it shame? Fear? Disconnect? Aziraphale gave a blessing over each one, that they would find the inner peace they needed this day, during this time in their lives.

After the mass was over, Aziraphale made his way to the parking lot where Crowley was waiting in his car. The pain of stepping on hallowed ground meant that Crowley would never be able to join him in this little ritual that he indulged in every November; Aziraphale tried to insist that he didn’t have to wait on him. Crowley had the usual quip about not having anything better to do anyway, finally assuring him that it was easier to just wait around than drop him off and turn right back around to pick him up.

Crowley started coughing the minute Aziraphale opened the car door. 

“What, have they brought back smoking indoors?”

“No,” Aziraphale said, “Just the priest went a bit heavy handed on the incense.”

Crowley pulled out onto the main road and started heading toward St. James’ Park. It was chilly, but the sun was shining brightly, and they would be able to feed the ducks for a few minutes before it got too cold.

“I still don’t understand why you pick _this_ day to visit a Catholic church,” he said as he rolled down the windows. “You don’t even go near the Christians on Christmas or Easter. Why the day after Halloween?”

It was something Aziraphale himself wasn’t entirely certain about. It was a holy day of obligation for these Catholics, but as Crowley pointed out, it was far from the most important day in their calendar. And his faith visits weren’t limited to the Christians— he had visited many faith communities throughout the centuries and had found beautiful devotion to God in all Her different forms. But those visits lacked the regularity of this one, which he had been making for centuries by now.

“Did you know,” he asked, “that there are parts of Heaven that angels aren’t allowed in?”

“Come again?”

“It’s true. Or at least, _my_ type of angel. I believe there are some angels in those sections, but no one goes in or out of the area,” he said.

Crowley was staring at Aziraphale, who was awfully glad that there were few cars on the road at this moment. “Angel, what does this have to do with anything?”

“Yes, sorry, getting to that. That section of Heaven is for human souls. I don’t know what it’s like in Hell, but in Heaven, those responsible for gathering souls have no dominion over them after death.”

He looked out his window and was surprised to feel heat in his cheeks. He’d wondered, more than once, if this ritual of his was silly. He knew Crowley wouldn’t laugh at him, but still.

“Today is All Saints Day, Crowley,” he said, his gaze returning to his love. “There are thousands of Saints that that Church claims are definitely in Heaven; there are thousands more that I have known personally who ought to be recognized as such, but will never be, because they died in obscurity, or didn’t fit the right profile, or something else altogether. They’re saints, not Saints,” he said, trying to emphasize the capitalization with his inflection, “But this day is for them too, and I want to honor them in some small way.”

Now Crowley wasn’t even pretending to look at the road. He was staring with such adoration that Aziraphale had to look at his hands fidgeting in his lap. 

“You miss them, don’t you?” Crowley asked. “Those people you brought into Heaven. To Her side.”

It would never cease to amaze him how Crowley was able to see things about him that he wasn’t able to see about himself. 

“Yes, I suppose I do.”

Turning his head back to the road, Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and laced their fingers together. “I still don’t get your methods, Angel, but I love how protective you feel over others.”

Aziraphale pulled their hands to his lips and gave a quick kiss to the back of Crowley’s hand. The car jerked, and Aziraphale laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is, by far, the most self-indulgent thing that I’ve ever written. I’m Catholic, and this holy day is one of my favorite parts of my faith (the whole body of Saints and the entire idea of the Body of Christ continuing after death just gets me every time). Normally today would be a holy day of obligation for me, but covid has lifted the obligation for all holy days and even our Sunday mass obligation. There will still be masses today, but I won’t attend one, and this fic was written in a more normal time with a more normal setting in mind.
> 
> Since this fic is so personal, I’m not expecting much in the way of interaction with this fic. I know the very nature of it will turn away a lot of people, and that’s fine. We’re all in fandom for our own reasons, and we all have our own corners of this sandbox to play in. If you reached this point, thank you for reading and being a part of this fandom too.
> 
> Title is from the First Reading on All Saints' Day (specifically, Revelation 7:9)
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [klainelynch](https://klainelynch.tumblr.com/)


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